Little Things
by Lykegenia
Summary: Oneshot ficlet. Since he defeated the Phantom, Raoul has had to deal with doubts about his wife. How much power does Erik still have? LND connections, but could be any universe


Just a little idea that's been playing around in my head for a while now. Enjoy!

* * *

It was little things, insignificant things that standing alone shouldn't have worried him, but that combined and caused him more anxiety than a young husband should have concerning his new bride.

The melodies she would hum to herself while sitting next to the window in the parlour were like nothing he had heard before; unearthly in their beauty and so haunting that they made him feel like a boy again, weeping when his spaniel had died. And then, as if she had previously been unconscious of the notes, she would start and look out of the big bay window at the people and the carriages passing in the street with such a soft, wistful expression that there was no doubt in the Vicompte's mind as to where the music had come from: _him_.

_He_ had lost, though, hadn't he? She had walked out of that cellar behind Raoul, leaving _him_ behind in the dark, to his music and his madness and his delusions. And they had wed, the Vicompte and the beautiful ingénue, but now, mere months after that auspicious event, here he was, spying on his wife's every move to see if she still thought of the Phantom.

It shouldn't bother him this much. What happened beneath the opera house was behind them, and he had won. And yet, the image of that death's head, the lure of that voice, was something unforgettable, and it still lurked in his memory. How much power did it still have over Christine? How much power did _he_ have?

As spring grew from winter she became with child, a small life made as the product of their love. The Vicompte decided pregnancy suited her nicely, for the fullness of impending motherhood made Christine even more beautiful than she had been before. Yet even at this happy time, with the household cheerful and congratulations (along with cheerful consolations that his life was now over) raining down on him, he had his doubts. She sang to her unborn child, those same melodies that raised the hairs on the back of the Vicompte's neck, as she sat knitting or embroidering. Sometimes, when he entered the room, Raoul could swear a glimpse of disappointment echoed in her eyes, as if she longed to see someone else at the door – though this may have been the several large brandies he had become in the habit of drinking before leaving his club to come home.

The day of Christine's confinement grew closer, the Vicompte was woken by nightmares – dark dreams of his son with a terrible Death's mask for a face, that his son was not his son at all, but another's. He drank more; he gambled. But when the day came and his beautiful wife sat enshrined in the birthing bed with a beautiful son – a son! – his fears melted, and he condemned himself for thinking his wife so impure. After all, how could a monster such as _he_ create such an angel?

And yet…

The boy's gift with music was alarming, despite the Vicompte's rational mind protesting that his mother was similarly talented. No, that couldn't be it – such genius could only be due to _him_. But _he _had lost! Christine's son was Raoul's son, no the spawn of some half-demon murderous magician! But then there was the boy's talent at fixing and creating.

She loved him dearly, and never tired of playing with him and telling him stories and caressing his face, almost, the Vicompte thought after his brandy, as if she was seeing another's ugliness in her son's beauty. She sang to him and he sang back, echoing old harmonies that the Vicompte would rather forget. He would not allow her to sing any more.

They were little things, insignificant things that fitted his suspicions and swelled them like ticks in his mind, made him think of a Death's head in his wife's heart; little things that were slowly driving him mad.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, as are any discussions of Phantom or Love Never Dies, since both are awesome (though I treat LND more as official fanfiction rather than canon, since several things, including the fact that Erik is meant to die at the end of Phantom, and the dates in Phantom, for the film at least, don't match those in LND). Any thoughts, happy to share!


End file.
